Courage
by we-will-not-fall-down
Summary: Tortured by the image of her own body, Clare Edwards spends her days alone, and completely lost.  Will Eli Goldsworthy be able to find her, and take away the hatred she feels for herself?  Rated T for severe self-hatred.
1. Chapter 1

_I haven't been in the mood to write happy fanfiction recently, which is why Delicately Deranged and Catch Me haven't been uploaded in SO long. But I'm starting to get in the mood for said style, so they'll be updated soon. _

_So.. this story will be disturbing. Just wait. There will be thoughts that are purely sickening. Said thoughts won't be in this chapter.. but they'll be there. Trust me. So, if you think you can handle that, please, read on, darlings(:_

Clare woke up on a particularly warm October morning to the sound of her alarm clock sounding in her ears. The second she heard its tune, she jumped out of bed, because she needed to beat her big brother, Johnny, to the shower. Every morning, they had this war, and every morning, Clare won.

As soon as Clare entered the bathroom, she slammed and locked the door. The second she did so, she heard the sound of Johnny slamming into it. "Clare, you _always _get first shower! Hurry up, because I have to be in school early to show a new student around!" He yelled.

Clare snorted in response, and muttered something about Johnny being a lazy, good for nothing loser. The reply that she received was close to inaudible, but it sounded a lot like "little bitch."

She laughed silently to herself, stripped her clothes from her body, and started staring at herself in the mirror. She studied everything about herself, every single inch of her body was judged by the words of her own harsh cruel mind.

"Your hips are too big." Her mind snapped. And, suddenly, the morning judging began. Clare sighed, before it took another try. "You're not beautiful. In fact, you're too fat to be anything more than horrifying." She cringed at harshness of her mind's words, but that didn't stop it from screaming its insults. "I'm surprised your parents can even look at you. They should be ashamed to call such a fat unbeautiful girl their daughter." The words sounded like nails on a chalkboard in Clare's mind, and tears started forming in her light blue eyes.

This was her daily ritual. Beat her brother to the shower, let her mind verbally abuse her, glare at her body in disgust, then, eventually, when she had enough torture from her mind's words, she would get in the shower, and do her best to avoid looking at her body.

The second Clare stepped into the steaming hot shower; she felt her repulsive body relax for just the shortest of seconds. The second her body relaxed, though, she heard a banging on the door. So, she quickly finished what she needed to do in the shower, turned it off, and wrapped a towel around her body.

Clare glanced in the mirror once more, and instantly shuddered at the reflection of the girl staring back at her. She hated herself. She hated herself _so_ much; she couldn't even look at her body without hearing harsh insults in her mind.

Clare exited the bathroom, and rain straight into Johnny. "What takes you _so_ long in the shower every morning?" Johnny asked, while staring weirdly at the bright red girl beside him.

"Oh, it's nothing, Johnny. I just have to take the time to let myself know that I'm unbeautiful in every way before I shower each morning." Clare replied, while adding a fake sarcastic smirk to make sure he believed that her comment was, in fact, a sarcastic one.

He smiled and rolled his eyes, buying the lie that was told to him almost daily. "Yeah, right. I forgot that you hated yourself so much that you needed all that time to tear yourself apart!" He said. Clare threw him a very fake giggle into the conversation, and Johnny rolled his eyes and laughed a little, before slamming the door in Clare's face.

Clare quickly ran into her room and started to prepare herself for school. She hated school with a fiery passion, mainly because there was no one who fully understood her. She didn't have that best friend who knew all of her problems. In fact, Clare was more of a loner, with no friends, just people who would say a few words to her, and even the amount of those were limited.

Clare ran into her closet and stared around for a moment, trying to find something to wear. She finally pulled out a baggy t shirt and sweatshirt, and some of her older brother's sweatpants that she had stolen from him. She liked wearing baggy clothes because, and then no one would be forced to see the hideousness that she thought to be her body. One thing that no one knew was that, when Clare would get ready for school, she would refuse to look in the mirror.

In fact, the only time she really _did_ look in the mirror was in the morning, when she would stand there, find every single flaw that existed on her body, and rip herself apart.

Once Clare was dressed and prepared for school, she ran downstairs to "Have breakfast" with her mother.

Basically, this consisted of her mother pigging out on fattening McDonald's breakfast, and offering some to Clare. Clare would always shake her head, and say that she would just grab a granola bar on her way out.

Then, every single morning, Clare would leave, muttering something about having to get to school early to do a project, study, do homework, or whatever other lame excuse would come to her mind. And, every single morning, her mother would nod, kiss her forehead, and then go straight back to worrying about her own problems, and ignoring her own daughter.

Clare would then grab her bags, and begin on her journey to that torture chamber some people liked to call her school. She hated it, but she considered it better than home.

There were things about Clare that no one knew.

No one knew that Clare would stop by the trash can outside of Degrassi, throwing the always untouched granola bar out. No one knew that Clare spent her hour and a half before school began sprinting on the treadmill. No one knew the amount of tears she cried while running on that treadmill, because she always wanted to push her weak, unnourished body to go faster. No one knew the hours she spent thinking of insults about her _own_ body, and kept them stored in her mind, for when she was really feeling unbeautiful. No one knew that there wasn't a single night in two years that Clare hadn't cried herself to sleep because of her appearance, or her body image. No one knew that Clare only consumed and kept down about a hundred calories a day. No one knew that the Clare one saw on the outside, happy, care-free Clare was actually nothing like the pain she was feeling inside.

The only thing that people did know was that Clare Edwards was a loner. She didn't really talk to many people, and many people hated her. But, No one knew that the person who hated Clare the most was, in fact, Clare herself. Well, Not yet. But one specific person was about to be the first person to do so.

_Erm.. yeah, that's it. Review?_


	2. Unbeautiful

**_It's been almost 3 weeks, and, I am sorry about that. I'm super sick, and have been falling asleep.. EVERYWHERE. Including on my keyboard. So sorry about the wait :/_**

**_I have something I really want you all to hear. ; I love you. Seriously. I was hesitant on even posting this story, because I wasn't sure how it would go over. But you have all been so sweet with the reviews and the alerts, and it would mean the world to me if you continued doing so. _**

**_Also, again, I warn you, Clare is very sick. She has a very severe case of Anorexia Nervosa, and the way she thinks is twisted and sick. With that warning, you can continue reading. I'm just not promising you a happy love story. Or, in fact, a love story at all. This is a story about the road to recovery.. but first you have to realize that you even need to be recovered._**

**_With all that rambling done, thank you again, and this is dedicated to, as always, KitKat0219, because she's been sick, also :/ Get better, aye 3_**

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><p>Clare finished her morning workout, and rushed to class, not really caring about the dizziness of the room. She never paid much attention to that feeling, because she was so used to it by now.<p>

She ran into English class a few seconds late, and sat down; staring ahead and hoping no one noticed her running in so late. Unfortunately for her, she was not that lucky. "Clare Edwards, please make your way to the front of the room and explain to the entire class why you're late."

Clare's face turned bright red as every student in the class turned to glare, and snicker at her. She walked slowly to the front of the room, before glaring at the teacher, and saying, "I was uh… I fell on the way to class." She lied swiftly, "And I dropped all my books and papers everywhere. I apologize for interrupting-" as she spoke these words, suddenly, the room started spinning more than usual, and she grabbed onto the student's desk that was in front of her. "Excuse me, I think I'm going to," She spoke to the teacher, but, before she could finish, she felt as if she was going to get sick, and the world faded to black.

Clare's eyes fluttered open, and she looked around the nurse's office, where she somehow managed to appear in. She looked over at the nurse, who was sitting at her desk, shopping for purses online. "Umm… Excuse me, Ms? How did I get here? I mean… what happened?"

The nurse looked up from her computer screen and smiled worriedly at Clare. "Well, sweetheart, you passed out in English class. In fact, you almost hit your head on the desk, but the sweetest boy got up and caught you, before bringing you here. Are you alright though, pumpkin? Do you know if there's a reason that you passed out?" The nurse asked in a fake worried voice.

Clare fake smiled and shook her head. "No, I have not the slightest idea. I guess I was just really hot and I didn't realize it until it was a bit too late." As soon as the words left her mouth, Clare realized how obvious it was that she was lying. After all, it was _freezing_ in her school because they blasted the air conditioning until October.

Nevertheless, the nurse just chuckled, and replied, "Well, alright sweetie. I really do think you should thank that boy, though. If it weren't for him, it wouldn't have just been a trip to the nurse's office; it might've been a trip to the emergency room."

Clare nodded, and thanked the nurse, before slowly getting up off the bed. Her head was still pounding, but she found it easy to ignore that. She was just wondering who this mystery boy that decided to help her was. She was also wondering how the hell he managed to hold a body as huge as hers up.

She left the nurse's room in a hurry, and ran into a person sitting right outside the door. "Oh, excuse me, I'm so sorry! I'm just looking for someone, don't mind me." Clare said, in a rush. She wanted to find this person and thank them before she got to go home for the day.

The boy with the black hair smiled back at her, and quickly returned her apology with one of his own. "Not your fault, I should watch where I'm going next time. By the way, how're you feeling? I was sitting in front of you in English and you just like… collapsed right in front of me. Are you doing okay? What was it that made you do such a thing?" He asked, sounding genuinely worried.

Clare didn't know this boy. She didn't even know his _name_. But something about the way he was speaking made her smile. Like maybe she was actually worth talking to. "I'm fine. I think I'm coming down with a fever." Clare lied, yet again. But, unlike the easygoing nurse, the boy didn't buy it.

"If you were coming down with a fever why would you come into school? And most people don't pass out if they're just starting to come down with a fever. Look, I know I don't really know you, but the way you looked right before you collapsed… it scared me. And it made me want to make sure you're alright."

The mysterious stranger spoke so kindly that Clare almost started to tell him the real problem. That is, until she remembered where she was and what she was about to say. "I actually wanted to come to school this morning. I'm not like most kids our age, nameless stranger, I actually _value_ my education. Now, if you're done questioning me, I'm going to go home now."

The nameless boy frowned at her. "My name's Eli, by the way, and I know you're Clare, because the nurse told me. She also told me this isn't the first time this has happened to you." He looked down at the ground, and then looked back up at her. "Call me weird, but I don't like knowing that people could be in pain, even if I don't know the people."

Clare fake smiled, and replied, "No, seriously, I'm fine. I think I'm coming down with something. I'm gonna get home though. It was nice meeting you Eli." She whispered, before making her way to her locker, down the long hallway, and out of the school.

Clare looked around to make sure no one was watching, and quickly started to run home, trying to burn off as many calories as possible as she did so.

The second Clare walked into the door of her home, she ran straight upstairs, into her bedroom, and broke out her food diary. She continued to write:

_Dear Diary,_

_Today is Tuesday, September 17. I haven't eaten anything really in four days. Today, in English class, I passed out. That's good. That means that, although there really aren't any physical changes in my appearance, at least I know what I'm doing is affecting me somehow. At least I know I'm not doing it for nothing. Maybe, after a little while, the person in the mirror will match the amount of times I pass out, or the numbers lost on the scale. Because the numbers go down on the scale, and the numbers of passing out go up, but, Diary, I never get any thinner. I'm still that fat, unbeautiful, overweight girl. Doesn't my not eating help that at all?_

Clare put the diary back under her mattress, and sighed. She didn't understand what was going on with her body. When you don't give your body the fuel it needs, it's supposed to feed on the _fat_ of your body, making you thinner. But, somehow, Clare felt as if her own body was an exception to that very rule.

Clare looked around her room, and frowned, not wanting to stand in there any longer. So, Clare hopped off her bed, and stripped of her baggy clothes, before staring at herself in the full length mirror.

On her mirror, Clare had pasted an innumerable amount of beautiful, stick thin models, as like, her inspiration. Every time she was about to crack, and feed her body some food, she would look at those models and think that, in time, her body would match hers, and she could, too, be beautiful.

When Clare Edwards looked in the mirror, she saw someone who was completely different then everyone else saw. Clare saw unbeautiful, fat, and un-perfect. Everyone else saw sickly, so thin, and lost.

People didn't know just how lost she was.


	3. Scream

_**Long time no update, right? Well, I was taking a well-needed break. I start school in two weeks. For most people, that's when they stop updating so much, but, for me, that's when I will start, considering I write in my classes when I don't feel the need to pay attention. So, in two weeks, I will try to update each story weekly. But, as for right now, here is the very much overdue third chapter of courage.**_

_**Warning: you probably know it by heart now. Yes, Clare is sick. And the severity of her sickness will start to unfold in this chapter.**_

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><p>For weeks after her journal entry, Clare had just been going through the same routine. She would eat possibly a hundred calories or day, just to avoid passing out again, and making the nurse suspicious. Clare was smarter than most people gave her credit for; she <em>knew<em> that the nurse and that boy, Eli, were starting to get suspicious of her eating habits. So, she needed to make sure that she covered them up well enough that no one would ever find out about the small amount of food she put into her body each day.

On a dreary Thursday morning, Clare woke up to the sound of her alarm clock, going off in her ears. Clare hesitantly got up, feeling dizzy as she did so. This was nothing new. It was just something that she had to deal with to become beautiful, simple as that.

Clare skipped her shower that morning, because she was feeling particularly unhappy that day, and she didn't want to waste time showering. She avoided the mirror, too, and quickly threw on a new pair of baggy sweats. She threw her hair in a messy ponytail, still not even bothering to look at the reflection of the girl staring back at her.

If she had chosen to look, she would have seen someone so broken staring back at her. But, Clare wouldn't just let that broken girl, the girl who was a tortured image of herself, be. No, Clare would whisper hateful words, think hateful thoughts, do hateful things, straight at the mirror, as if the person in the reflection could speak in return.

Clare went down to the kitchen, seeing her mother, standing there, watching her every move. The little voice in the back of Clare's mind started to get nervous. "What if she knows? What If she knows about your secret? She'll be jealous, and she'll want to knock you off your road, your road to becoming as beautiful as you can be. Just don't make eye contact, and then you can get yourself to school. And, you need to do so quickly, because, honestly, you need to burn as many calories as possible." Her mind whispered, as if it was in a hurry.

The sad thing was that Clare listened to this voice as if it was an actual person speaking. She nodded, agreeing with the hateful words that her mind had spoken to her. "Mom, I'm gonna be late for school. I have to go." She said, starting to walk out the door.

Mrs. Edwards took one look at Clare and shook her head. "Clare, you look a mess. Your hair is hanging all over the place, and your clothes. Clare Dianne Edwards, who ever told you it was okay to leave the house looking like a hobo? Go back up to your room, take a shower, and come back down in something appropriate for school." Her mom basically spat at her.

Clare cringed at the words leaving her mother's mouth. She knew she was a good for nothing loser, but hearing that she _looked_ like one, from her own _mother_ hurt a lot more than she would have expected it to hurt. She fought back the tears that were begging to fall down her face and she turned around, nodding at her mother. "I know. I look like a mess, mom. I'll do my best to make you proud." She said, softly, walking back up the stairs, and into her bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Clare's mom stayed in the kitchen, not realizing the effect her words that she had just spoken would have on her young, beautiful, _broken_ sixteen year old daughter. She had just meant that she should have not left the house dressed the way she was, because it would look as if she was not treated right, which, in Mrs. Edwards's opinion, was not true.

Meanwhile, Clare was in her bathroom, crying against the door. Her own _mother_ had called her unbeautiful. Her mother _agreed _with her own opinions of herself. Clare quickly stripped off her baggy clothes, and looked in the mirror. She let the tears run freely, now, considering no one was watching but her reflection.

Her mother was right. She was an awful daughter. She was bringing shame to the family's name, looking the way she did. "You deserve hell." Clare whispered, to the mirror. "Why aren't you good enough, huh? Why can't you just make your mother _proud_? Why do you need to ruin" she paused, the lump in her throat becoming too much to bear. "WHY DO YOU RUIN EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH?" She screamed at her reflection. "You're disgusting. You're fat. And you will never be the perfect daughter." She said, softly and cruelly, to her own self.

She looked at the girl in the mirror, her teardrops running hot down her face. "I hate you. I hate what you've let yourself become." She whispered. "If you had more self-control, you could be the girl everyone wants you to be. The girl I want you to be." Clare said, the volume of her voice rising. "But you couldn't do that, huh? You had no reason to try and be good, until it was too late. Until I had to go and take extreme measures in fixing this" she motioned towards her body, staring back at her in the mirror, "mess that _you_ created. I hate you. I hate you so much." She whispered, to herself.

She looked at the mirror once more, before taking the thing that was closest to her and throwing it into the part of the mirror that showed her tears. The mirror broke into pieces, some big, and some small. But Clare was staring at one specific piece. It was jagged, and didn't look safe to touch, but she could still see her tears, in this piece of the mirror.

Clare took the piece of the mirror, turning it around in her hand a few times. She could tell that, if she applied pressure, this would severely injure her hand. But that's not what she wanted to do.

Or was it?

Clare took the mirror piece, and looked down to the side of her leg. "This is for not being what I needed you to be." Clare spoke, cruelly, to her body. She put pressure against her leg, and cringed, as the warm blood ran down. She pulled away, before looking at what was left of the mirror. A disturbed little smile came across the face of Clare Edwards. She had found her new best friend: self-harm.

Clare's mother didn't hear her daughter's outburst, because frankly, she didn't care enough. Maybe, if she had wanted to, she would have been the one to help Clare from the very beginning. Anyone who knew Clare, and looked her in the eye, could see that she needed saving. There was one problem, and that problem was that no one in the entire world _really_ knew Clare Edwards, not even Clare Edwards, herself.

Clare came down the stairs, about a half hour later. She was dressed in a loose black long sleeve t-shirt, and loose navy blue pants. Her hair was very much in her face, as if she were doing her best to hide it from people who wanted to see.

"Clare, I called the school. Told them you'd be late due to a doctor's appointment. So, run along now, and I'll see you when you get home tonight, okay?" her mother asked, as if she really did care.

Clare nodded, and walked out the door. She was clutching her bag over her shoulder, and, in her bag, she brought the ability to "bond" with her newest best friend, self destruction.


End file.
